The Lass of the Silver Sword

“My watch! I’ve lost it!” Jean’s cry of distress made Douglas face about.

“Your watch? Why, it’s gone, isn’t it!” he exclaimed.

“What’s the matter?” called Cecily, rushing down to them.

“My darling watch! I’ve lost it!” wailed Jean.

“Oh, Jean! And it was such a love! How did you lose it?” cried Cecily.

“I lost it because I was an idiot! I knew the pin wasn’t firm, but I thought it would hold. Oh, why was I so silly? Oh, dear! I’ll never find it! Carol!” as Carol and Eunice came running down the trail, “I’ve lost my watch!”

“Jean! Your beautiful watch!” The older girls joined in the mourning.

“Oh, we’ll find it,” said Douglas. “I’ll go back and hunt.”

“I’m going with you,” said Jean.

“I am, too,” said Cecily.

“So am I,” said Carol.

“I suppose I can’t, then!” said Eunice. “I’ll have to run on and tell Bunny. She’ll be frightened out of her five senses if she finds us all mysteriously vanished! Don’t stay long up there. If you don’t find it quickly, come right down, or we’ll send the whole force of guides after you. The boys can go and look for it to-morrow. But you must get back before dark. Take good care of them, Douglas!”

The rest of the party were well in advance. Frances, ambitious to reach home first, had scurried on ahead, pursued by Jack and Betty. Fräulein, who was never at ease when the Mouse was out of sight, had sped after the runaways. Eunice now hurried after Fräulein, while Douglas and Jean, Carol and Cecily, retraced their steps to the top. The three men and the guide whom they had seen on the summit passed them as they went up, and in reply to their questioning said they had seen nothing of the missing treasure. They had met a man near the slides; maybe he had picked it up.

“I’m going to hunt around in that cave,” said Jean, as they reached the top. “I remember how I kept catching on the bushes when I was crawling in.”

“We’d better divide up, two and two, and hunt in different places,” said Carol. She and Cecily turned away to find the clump of balsams where the rhymes had been written.

Jean and Douglas searched the cave in vain, and coming back walked along the edge of the precipice, studying every step of their path. No tiny crystal face or golden disk appeared, and no happy cry of “Found!” came from the other searchers.

“Hello! There’s a man down there on the slides!” Douglas suddenly cried out.

“Oh! Do you think that’s the man we saw?”

“Get out the glass,” said Douglas.

Jean had slung Eunice’s field-glass across her shoulder for the homeward tramp. She whipped it from the case and tried to keep her gaze steadily fastened on the figure far below.

“I’m sure it is!” she cried. “Only the glass wiggles so! I can’t keep it still! You look.” Douglas took the glass, and while he gazed in his turn, Jean watched the man breathlessly. He had stepped out from the trees bordering the edge of the middle slide, and was standing on the great central expanse of rock.

“Isn’t it he?” asked Jean.

“Can’t tell from here, but it looks like him, and I bet he’s got your watch!” said Douglas.

Jean started. “Douglas, I know he has! Oh, look! He’s going down!”

They saw the man drop down upon all-fours, crawl out to the middle of the slide, and then, crouching, coast downward.

“I wonder where the old sneak was hiding all the time!” said Douglas. “Took a nap in that cave, maybe. You old rascal, we’ll send detectives after you if we don’t find that watch. He doesn’t know there’re two detectives looking at him now through a glass, does he? Thinks he can sneak off and nobody spot him!”

They watched the coaster slide and stop, and slide and stop.

quoted Douglas.

“Oh, don’t! He might!” said Jean.

“Why, don’t you want him to? My dear sir,

A moment later Jean gave a sharp cry. The man was falling. His feet had shot out from under him, and he was sliding swiftly, helplessly down that terrible sweep of rock to rocks more terrible below. Jean drew back and shut her eyes. All at once there came a glad cry from Douglas. “He’s stopped! He’s caught!” Jean looked again. Some ridge of rock must have checked the man in his rush to almost certain death, and there he lay, nearly at the bottom of the central slide. Douglas looked through the glass and saw the man move as if trying to rise, then drop back and lie motionless.

“I’m afraid he’s awfully hurt,” said the boy. “I’ll have to go down to him.”

“Oh, Douglas, don’t! Don’t go down!”

“I’ll have to. He’s hurt, or he wouldn’t he still like that. I can’t leave him there all alone.”

“But I’m sure it’s Tony!”

“What if it is? He’s hurt, and there’s nothing to do but go down and help him.”

“But he may not really be much hurt, and he might hurt you!”

“Don’t worry—I’ll be all right.”

“But you might fall!”

“Not with tennis shoes. Can you take home the guide-basket?”

“Yes, but listen! You know I want to save him, just as much as you do! But why can’t we hurry down and send out guides to help him instead? You can’t do any good. You can’t carry him down the slides all by yourself!”

“Well, I can’t leave him there alone, anyhow. If he’s too much hurt to go on down, I’ll wigwag up to you, and then you hurry along and send the guides after us.”

Obscured by the bushes, but lying directly below them, was the top slide, that almost perpendicular wall, and Douglas took a step downward through the balsams. Jean caught his arm.

“Douglas, stop! You’re not going down that way!”

“Yes, I am. It’s the quickest. Don’t be so scary. I’ll hang on to the bushes along the edge, and I’ll be all right. Good-by—take care of yourself.”

“Good-by, Douglas. I’ll wait here, and then if you signal, I’ll tear down and get the guides.”

Jean watched him plunge in among the balsams; then she turned. In the distance she saw Carol and Cecily, all unconscious of what had happened. She called to them.

“Have you found it?” called Cecily, and she and Carol came up on a run.

“Tony’s fallen down the slides and Douglas has gone after him!” was Jean’s greeting.

Carol and Cecily rushed to look over the precipice. “He’s killed!” cried Cecily, as she saw the motionless figure below.

“No, he’s not; but he’s hurt, and Douglas has started down right over the slide here! I couldn’t stop him. He would go!”

“Isn’t that just like a boy, to choose the wildest way to do a thing!” exclaimed Carol. “Oh, dear, I hope he knows what he’s about! Where’s that place we saw the top slide from?” They hurried to a spot where the bushes no longer hid the slide from their view, and saw the boy cautiously descending the danger-path.

“Oh, look! That man’s moving! He’s sitting up!” cried Jean, suddenly, looking through the field-glass. She handed it to Carol.

“Now he’s lying down again. He must have broken a leg,” said Carol.

By this time Douglas had reached the end of the first slide. He pushed through the bushes at its foot and came out on the central one. The glass passed from hand to hand as they watched his progress. Without a misstep he reached his goal, and they saw him drop down by the man’s side. They waited for him to wave for help, but the signal did not come.

“They’re going down!” cried Jean. Without rising, the man began to let himself down slowly, Douglas walking at his side. Hurt or not, he was able to make his way downward, and the sure-footed boy kept close to him. They disappeared for a while among the low trees and boulders separating the slides. But Douglas came into view again, and suddenly the man was standing erect beside him. The next moment only one was standing there. A cry of horror broke from the girls. Douglas had fallen and was plunging down over the cruel rocks, down the cliff to the forest at its base.

“Tony struck him! I saw him! He struck him!” Carol’s voice was tense and strained, and she was white to the lips. Looking through the field-glass she had seen what the others had not, and the glass had almost fallen from her hands in the shock. The man who had struck the blow she no longer doubted was Tony Harrel.

“He’s killed him! Oh, Carol! He’s killed him!” cried Jean, clinging in an agony to the older girl.

“Oh, Carol, do you think he’s dead?” asked Cecily, trembling and awestruck.

“No, no!” answered Carol. “I won’t think that! But he must be fearfully hurt. There’s only one thing to do! I must go down to him!”

“Oh, Carol, no!” began Cecily.

“Yes I must. It’s the only thing to do. You and Jean must go home as fast as you can, and send back guides to help us. Can you find your way down the mountain alone?”

“Yes, yes,” said Cecily. “But you mustn’t go down, Carol. You’ll kill yourself! Oh, don’t!”

“I’m going with you, Carol!” cried Jean. “Let Cecily go for the guides. I won’t let you go alone. Tony might kill you!”

“No, Jean, you must not go with me! If Cecily goes alone she may lose her way, or fall, and nobody’ll know what’s happened to any of us; but if you go together you can help one another.”

“No, I’m going down to Douglas, too! I will go! I will! You shan’t stop me!” Jean declared passionately.

Carol laid her hands on Jean’s shoulders, and looked into the wild, frightened eyes. Her girlish face had grown stern in its resolution, and Jean felt the power of that steadfast gaze. “You must obey me!” she said. “It’s the only way to save his life.”

“But don’t go down those frightful slides, Carol!” pleaded Cecily. “Can’t you keep in the woods all the way? Tony might try to hurt you!”

“No, he won’t. There’s not the slightest danger. He wouldn’t dare to touch me! I’m not one bit afraid of him.”

“Oh, look! look!” exclaimed Jean. “There he goes now!”

The boulder from which Douglas had fallen was not far from the border of the slide, and the man, instead of continuing the descent of the cliff, had crawled rapidly among the rocks and bushes to the edge. Now they saw him rise up and disappear into the woods.

“There now!” said Carol. “You see he’s gone another way. I’m going down the slides—if a boy can do it, I can! I’ll only keep in the woods till I get to the middle slide; then I shan’t meet him at all. Now, Jean, give in. Every moment we waste here counts!”

“I want to go with you!” cried Jean piteously. “Cecily won’t be hurt; she’ll catch up with the others. But you’re my sister—if you’re killed, I want to be killed, too! Let me go with you!”

“Jean, darling,” said Carol, “don’t you love me enough to do the only thing that will help me? If you want to save me, as well as Douglas, do what I say and get the guides.”

“Oh, Jean, do come!” Cecily begged. “We’ve got to obey orders.”

“Yes—I will—I’ll go for the guides.” The words came hard, but Jean had yielded.

“Now then,” said Carol, “we haven’t a minute to lose. Give me your handkerchiefs, girls—I must have something for bandages—and your ribbons—your belts—your neckties—anything to bind!” While she spoke she was examining the contents of the guide-basket. “Here’s Fräulein’s cloak—that’s good—and the pail—I’ll need it for water. Douglas said there was a brook down there.”

“Take my sweater, too,” said Jean.

“And mine,” said Cecily.

“Yes, I’ll tie them around my waist. Put the other things in the basket.” They packed the basket with lightning haste and fastened it to her shoulders. “Now, girls,” she said, “don’t stop another second!”

“Carol, go slowly,” begged Jean. “Don’t slip! Be careful! For my sake!”

“I will. Good-by!”

Jean and Cecily threw one look at Carol starting fearlessly on her way. Then they darted over the mountain-top to the trail. Down it they ran recklessly, making good speed at first. But the running and jumping over roots and stones proved too much for one of Cecily’s overtaxed shoes. The sole broke, and after that there was no more hurrying. Poor Cecily could only shuffle painfully along, and they lost all hope of overtaking the others. It seemed as if they spent hours and hours upon that trail, and by the time they reached the base of the mountain night appeared to have fallen already, so dark were the woods. But at last they were out of the forest, and on the road, where it was only dusk. A long walk was still before them, but they plodded on bravely until, the weary pilgrimage over, they saw the lighted windows of Chipmunk Lodge. Mrs. Brook, Fräulein and Eunice were on the doorstep anxiously awaiting them.

“Children, are you here at last?” cried Mrs. Brook.

“Where are Carol and Douglas?” asked Fräulein and Eunice together.

“Don’t be frightened, Mother; we had to come back alone,” Cecily began, as they stepped into the living-room.

“Tony knocked Douglas down the slides, and Carol’s gone down after him!” interrupted Jean.

“Stop, Jean, you’re frightening Mother! Let me tell,” said Cecily. Betty, Frances and Stella had sprung from the fireside, and there was a confusion of questioning.

“Girls, you must keep quiet till Cecily can tell us what has happened,” said Mrs. Brook. And calmed by her mother’s comforting presence, Cecily told the story.

Poor Stella knelt on the hearth, her cold hand locked in Jean’s. “It was Tony!” she suddenly burst out. “I’m sure it was! I saw a man around here last night, but it was so dark I couldn’t tell who it was. And, oh, I remember I told Douglas I hoped he wouldn’t get lost on those Gothics! Tony must have heard me—and that’s how he knew Douglas was going up! He always hated him!”

“These children must have their supper right away,” said Mrs. Brook, when the story was ended. “Bring it here, and let them have it by the fire, girls. I must go after the guides.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Frances. She lighted a lantern, and they set out for the guides’ headquarters.

“Fräulein,” said Eunice, “let’s go and tell Court. He’ll know what to do. I’m sure he’ll want to start right off, himself, to find them.” She brought another lantern, and, with Fräulein, hurried down the dark hill to Court’s lodgings.

Half an hour later Mrs. Brook and Frances came back, ready to despair. All the guides were out, and of those expected home that night no tidings had as yet been received. There was nothing to be done but wait for Court; and Mrs. Brook ordered the worn-out girls to bed.

“Let me stay up with you,” Stella pleaded. “I couldn’t sleep! And there’s nothing else I can do to help.”

Mrs. Brook looked into the white, imploring face. “Yes, Stella,” she answered, “you may stay, but no one else.”

“I’ll go upstairs, but I can’t go to bed,” said Jean. “I must be up when they bring Carol and Douglas back. I don’t care if I am tired out! It was all my fault for losing my watch!” She went up to her room, threw herself down on her cot, and tossed about in her misery.

It was after midnight when she heard the door open and Court’s voice saying, “Here we are!” She sprang from her bed in sudden hope and dashed downstairs. It was only Fräulein and Eunice he had brought.

“Aunt Alice, it’s been an outrageous delay!” he said. “But we’re only just back from our tramp. We’re all ready to start now, though. I’m going to take the guide we had to-day and go to the top and then down the slides, and Clinton and some other fellows are going to follow up along Rainbow Brook to meet us. Give me a wrap for Carol. We’ve got everything else.”

His aunt handed him her own heavy cloak, and some luncheon that she had prepared.

“Do you think you’ll save them?” asked Jean faintly.

“Save them? Of course!” answered Court. “Douglas is a great strapping fellow—he can stand anything! And Carol, why, I’d trust her to climb the Matterhorn! Cheer up,” he called back, as he went out. “We’ll have them home before you know it!”

“We must all go to bed now, and get what rest we can,” said Mrs. Brook. Very tenderly she kissed the three sad-faced girls, Eunice, Jean and Stella.

There was nothing to wait for now. Jean went forlornly upstairs again, and buried her face in her pillow. Court’s words had cheered her only for a moment. “It was all my carelessness!” she sobbed, in a passion of tears, the bitterest she had ever shed. “I’ve killed Douglas—and I’ve killed my Carol! Oh, Carol, you darling, you darling!”